


caramel

by buries



Series: [challenge] fandomweekly fills [9]
Category: Emily in Paris (TV)
Genre: Community: fandomweekly, Cooking, Dessert & Sweets, F/M, French Language, Missing Scene, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buries/pseuds/buries
Summary: Emily wants to make a good impression, so she asks Gabriel for his help.
Relationships: Emily Cooper/Gabriel (Emily in Paris)
Series: [challenge] fandomweekly fills [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909810
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31
Collections: FandomWeekly (2019-2020) Writing Challenge on Dreamwidth





	caramel

**Author's Note:**

> this is purely written for anna who heard me cry about the lack of emily/gabriel fic and enabled me to give into my bad desires. this was written for fandomweekly's #70 networking and desserts and sweets challenge. this came second place.
> 
> this is set sometime during the first few episodes of the show. i never liked how ignorant emily was about not learning the language and wished we saw more of her trying to learn, so... this was born. french translations are courtesy of google and tarte tatin courtesy of googling.
> 
> unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. thanks for reading! ♥

In the time she’s been in Paris, her kitchen hasn’t quite gotten the workout that it’s getting now. She stays out of Gabriel’s way, learning very quickly that he doesn’t need her help at all. He’s only been in her kitchen a few times (mostly to sit and talk to the plumber), but it’s like he knows it like the back of his own hand.

All she’s ever made him is coffee and gotten him a biscuit from the cupboard, and yet, he behaves like she’s shown him where every single utensil is.

She sits at her small dining table, hands flat against the wood as she peers at him. His brows are furrowed and his bright blue eyes are downcast, busy at work making her desserts.

"Are you sure you don’t need any help?"

" _Oui_ ," he says, glancing up at her to smile cheekily. "That means—"

"I know what it means," she says quickly. Brushing her hand through her hair, she flushes. "Remind me to never confide my insecurities in you ever again." 

His laughter is rich like the homemade caramel he stirs in his bowl. "Your French is getting better."

She rolls her eyes and smiles at him. "You’re only saying that because you’re my friend."

" _Non_ ," he shakes his head, expression serious. His bright smile undercuts the intensity of that one word. "I mean it. Keep practising and you’ll be mistaken for a Parisian in no time."

Emily presses her lips together in an attempt to harness her smile. She looks down, drawing circles along the wood of her table. "Are you sure they’ll like a tarte Tatin?"

" _Oui_ ," he says, not looking up. He’s busy laying the pastry on top of the apples and caramel he’s been cooking. "They will like tarte Tatin, Emily," he says. " _Croyez-moi._ "

"I got that one," she smiles, openly watching him. "This is the first time I’m meeting the kids Mindy babysits and I want to make a good impression."

"Which is not hard for you," he says. He pulls his messy hands away from what he’s doing and looks up at her. She much prefers it when he’s distracted, then his gaze isn’t piercing right into her. "Trust me, Emily, you will be fine. The tarte Tatin will ensure that."

She laughs. "I’m very grateful for your _confiance_ in me, Gabriel."

He smiles proudly at her. "Just say you made it."

Emily shakes her head. "No, no way. _Non_ ," she says firmly. He smiles at her in amusement and she swears his cheeks flush red. "You made it. There’s no way I could pass it off as my own and I wouldn’t want to, Gabriel. You made these for me and I am _très reconnaissant._ " Her brows furrow together as she tries to feel the weight of the words on her tongue.

"You got it right," he says, laughing lightly. He turns his back to her to slide the tarte Tatin into the oven. When he rights himself, he rests his hands on her kitchen island and looks at her with a cheeky grin. "I’m glad I could help, Emily. Now, will you do the cleanup? I’m not very good."

Emily laughs, hand coming to rest against the base of her throat. "You can’t use my words against me, Gabriel!"

He smiles as she pushes her chair out and approaches her kitchen island. "Can’t I?" Pressing his messy hand against his chin, he feigns thinking with a _tap, tap, tap_ against his jaw. "I think I can."

She stands beside him and pushes her hip into his sharply. "Get out. Um… _Va-t-en s'il te plaît._ "

With a bow, Gabriel steps out from behind the kitchen island and takes his place in her seat. He pulls the rag from his shoulder and begins to wipe his hands. "Now, I will judge your cleaning up."

Emily’s face flushes as she begins to wipe the bench.

**Author's Note:**

> French translations:
> 
>  _Oui_ : Yes  
>  _Non_ : No  
>  _Croyez-moi_ : Trust me  
>  _Confiance_ : Confidence  
>  _Très reconnaissant_ : Very grateful  
>  _Va-t-en s'il te plaît_ : Get out, please


End file.
